


Varied Extremes

by ArtHistory



Series: The Entity's Domain [2]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Corruption, Enemies to Lovers, Feeding, Feeding Kink, Grumpy Old Men, Hand Jobs, Hedonism, M/M, Stuffing, Thanksgiving, Weight Gain, fat kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:29:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27730813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtHistory/pseuds/ArtHistory
Summary: The Doctor believes in pushing the body to its limits. The Clown believe with too, but he has a...different way of thinking about it.
Relationships: Herman Carter | The Doctor & Kenneth "Jeffrey Hawk" Chase | The Clown
Series: The Entity's Domain [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2028442
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Varied Extremes

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Thanksgiving! Another odd one, mixed up in my universe with Jake and Michael. Still, lots of kink, I hope you enjoy :)

“There there, another bite, just one more.”

Herman, his headgear removed, let out a pleased chuckle. It felt good to lean his head back against the tiled walls of Lery’s Memorial Institute. The sheets of the King-sized hospital bed bit as his bare, dark skin, but it was infinitely better than cramming both their broad-shouldered forms into Kenneth’s tiny, cramped cart.

“Open.” Kenneth ordered, his tone more curt than sweet, which only served to make the African-American doctor’s cock  **pulse** . Herman opened wide, white teeth bared into a twisted, eager grin. Kenneth’s painted lips spread with in kind, pausing his feeding to leave dark-purple lipstick up and down Herman’s muscular neck.

“So obedient” The clown growled, flashing his teeth once again, Herman grinning wider in response. The doctor leaned forward, catching Kenneth’s chubby earlobe and biting it  **hard** . Kenneth wheezed out a yelp, years of smoking rending his voice a clawed, strained thing. Then Kenneth’s hands were on his face, kissing him rough, needy, pressing his bare. flabby form against Herman’s own with such force that Herman failed to stifle a belch as they broke, blowing what wisps of hair were left on Kenneth’s bald head back.

“I am so damn glad I didn’t kill you.” Kenneth murmured, arching his back,  **pressing** his overfed gut into Herman’s naked side, that clown’s chubby paw tracing down Herman’s chest, teasing, fondling Herman’s beef pecs with a needy eagerness that neither of them had experienced in such a long, long time.

It felt so good, Herman thought. Smoothing his dark hands to Kenneth’s face. Each digit was lined with cords of wires that traced up his meaty biceps, across his shoulders, down his naked back. Herman glided his thumb along Kenneth’s white, bulbous cheek, Herman’s hazy grey eyes staring into the endless black of Kenneth’s. It felt good to be with someone who truly understood. He brought the man close, kissing him slow, deep. When Kenneth had first entered, with his twisted, malformed horse and his hideous, mountainous gut, Herman had been disgusted, Watching Kenneth smile at him, teeth small, uneven, tearing open bags of junk food and knocking them back with endless, sickening crunches. His clothes tight, stretched around the ivory mound of dough at his center, gut visible, eagerly peeking through the stained fabric. He was disgusting. Dirty.  **Fat** . 

If Herman was honest, he would’ve remember how his breath had hitched at that thought. That word. But he wasn’t honest. Nor was he kind. Good. He was monster, one of the few who actually knew it.

Bubba, Max, Evan, hell even Sally - they were the Entity’s playthighs. People pushed by circumstance. Him? He wanted discover science well beyond what morality would allow. And in this realm? Under the Entity? He’d done that. He had volumes upon volumes of notes, all rich with the screams, the horrified gurgles of the survivors he’d encountered. Herman wanted to push every limit to its breaking point, then scour the shattered remains for whatever could be stretched even further.

And it turned out, Kenneth wanted the same.

Just...in another way.

Perhaps that’s why the Entity had tossed them at one another.

It did that every now and then. Had the violent murderers it had summoned duke it out in one v. one combat. Kenneth hurled his afterpiece tonic. Herman sent his sparks through the floor.

Both men laughed.

Then stared.

Then grinned.

Herman could still remember seeing stars as Kenneth’s heavy, overfed gut  **poured** onto his lower back. How Kenneth’s hands roughly grabbing, squeezing,  **bouncing** Herman’s thick, muscular ass. How when Herman had refused a cigarette in the afterglow of it all, Kenneth had popped open a bottle of gin and passed it his way.

Kenneth pushed limits too. How much he could drink. How much he could eat. And Herman found himself drawn closer and closer into the clown’s horrific gluttony the more time they spent together. His tight, toned abs stretching with the most wonderful, gurgling  **heft** as Kenneth pinned him to the wall, fat gut filling up Herman’s lower back, tipping the African-American man’s head back to dump whatever greasy, fatty, heavy treat he’d begged the Entity for that week. The way he’d tear open Herman’s lab coat, mouth locking onto the doctor’s neck, smiling as his hands found budding love handles over once hyper-toned obliques. Purring out heavy, teasing breaths as nimble fingers slipped below once-hard, firm cheeks, now softened, rounded, bloated with pounds upon pounds of fat.

Herman tried and failed to stifle another belch, returning from his memories as Kenneth brought another tonic to his lips. The thick, viscous sludge swirled in that glass, painting Herman’s lips and tongue pink as he swallowed, gulped, feeling the mass drop into his already full gut with a  **glorp** . He gasped, whining as Kenneth brought the turkey leg to his mouth, obediently biting, tearing, swallowing until it was just bone.

“Picked it clean, didn’t you  **fatboy** ?” Kenneth teased, Herman letting his head fall back, arching his muscular lower back to make his taut belly bulge further into the air. He looked down at himself, cock  **slapping** his lower belly - his much,  **much softer** lower belly.

“A whole Thanksgiving feast, right in here, you’re making me look skinny, pig.” Kenneth mocked, Herman huffing a high-pitched whine as the overfed man moved to his knees, settling himself over Herman’s beefy thighs. His hands massaged the high, tight dome of Herman’s gut, rocking back and forth as if he was kneading bread below the man’s belly button. Kenneth apparently loved this horrifically gluttonous holiday, though his celebration had decimated Herman’s waistline much more than his own.

Herman looked down in horror? Arousal? Finding not a trace of his once tight, toned, perfect waistline in the shadow of his lover’s round form. The doctor’s hands roamed up and down the jello-like curve of his dark gut, skin hot, fresh, stretch marks shooting like lightning bolts towards his crotch. Herman gulped as he grabbed a handful of warm, rich fat. Even stretched to the max, stomach churning loudly, achingly full, there was just so  **much** of him to fondle, grope, 

**Squeeze** .

What would survivors do when they saw him now? An overfed, gluttonous mass packed into a straining labcoat? He needed to stop. This all needed to stop. Before-

Kenneth threw his head back, letting out a deep, wet belch before grabbing, slapping, bouncing his own gut with both hands. He bounced it, settling his hands beneath it, hefting it up and letting it  **drop** . HIs chest was round, perky, tits much more than Herman’s own, beefy pecs, which were rising and falling with each of Herman’s panicked, aroused, needy breaths.

Kenneth grinned, leaning close so that his fat cock pressed into Herman’s thick, leaking member. Herman bit his lower lip as the man closed his fist around the both of them, the weight, the heft, the pressure of Kenneth’s gut on his cock too much for Herman to handle, the doctor’s voice strained, choked.

“I see you measuring, looking.” Kenneth teased, slowly, achingly beginning to pump. His hand reached out, taking Herman’s chin and turning it to look into his eyes.

“You don’t want ti admit it, do you?” He mocked, voice warm, mischievous, downright eveil as he grinned, tipping that chin down to look at the twin mounds of their stuffed guts quaking, rocking, wobbling against one another with an obscenity that had Herman gripping the hospital sheets around him, knocking aside the empty plates of potatoes, stuffing, the bones of the picked clean turkey. He looked at them all in horror, realizing just how much he’d eaten, no, just how much he’d  **been feed** . Just how much he’d chewed, swallowed, then begged for more. He’d wanted this so desperately, so horribly. And now, now he was-

“You’re just as fat as me.” 

Herman saw stars. His eyes rolled back, Kenneth diving forward to kiss him, to fuck those last few, needy pumps with his gut, the two of them painting each other’s bellies with their ecstasy before Kenneth rolled over, landing next to the doctor with a  **thump** .

Out of breath, full, Herman looked with a groan between the mountains of rich, dark flesh and wide, overfed cream.

“You’re a fatty now, baby.” Kenneth purred, smoothing a hand atop Herman’s belly, toying with it, the doughy mound of Herman’s belly as the doctor struggled to huff out more than a belch, covering his face with his hands.

“I wonder how long until you’re even bigger than me?” Kenneth asked, dreamily, feeling Herman’s heartbeat skyrocket as he took the man’s hand.  
“I know. I’m excited too.” The wicked clown laughed.

Thank the Entity the holiday was over...right?


End file.
